Shit, please don't let it be him again. I plead, relaxing when I look up to see the shadow belongs to a friendly-looking bartender.

The bartender has short brunette hair with the stubble of a goatee stretched across his chin. A white cleaning rag is draped over his shoulder as he leans forward and sets his forearms on the table between us.

"Hello love, qu'est-ce que je peux t'offrir?" he asks in French, giving me a friendly smile.

"Je ne suis pas d'ici, que me conseillez-vous?" I tell him boredly, reaching into my pocket to pull out my wallet.

"I'll make you a contreau, on the house." The bartender decides, switching to speaking broken English. He reaches down and grabs a glass somewhere behind the counter, gently setting it down onto the wood with a soft thunk as his light eyes flick up to mine.

"I notice your accent sounds American, which of the states are you from?" the bartender asks, his hazel eyes looking curiously into mine.

I watch as he turns to grab a glass bottle with amber liquid on the shelf behind him, then turns to unscrew the lid and fill about one-fourth of the cup.

"I'm from California," I finally say, as the bartender takes the glass from the counter before me and turns to the soft-drink dispenser beside him, filling up the rest of the glass with what I assume is club soda.

He drops two ice cubes into the round glass, before returning it to me and smoothing a hand over his short hair. "Oh, I've always wanted to go there! I've never traveled out of France though."

I lift the glass to my lips and take a sip, the immediate tang of bitter orange mixed with alcohol and soda overwhelming my senses. I snort as I quickly set the glass down and draw a hand to my lips, trying to suppress the cough that lodges in my throat.

"Made it a little strong did you?" I rasp, glancing up to see that the bartender's are shuddering in an attempt to hold in his laugh. I cringe, doubling over coughing as the bartender bursts out laughing and shakes his head, wiping a hand across his eyes as I attempt to sit up and take another drink.

I grit my teeth as the strong liquid travels down my throat, smiling when I don't double over coughing again.

The bartender laughs again and grabs the white towel from his shoulder to wipe off an invisible stain on the table. "Not bad for an American, do you like it now after a few sips?"

I lift the glass and swirl its contents up the light, watching the dazzling amber liquid shimmer in the light. I give him a daring smile as I bring the glass back to my lips and down the entire thing in one gulp, slamming it back down onto the counter.

The bartender gawks at me as I grin and draw a hand across my lips, the room spinning slightly from the amount of alcohol I just downed. "It was pretty good, although I think you could make it a bit stronger next time." I laugh, rising from my seat as the bartender shares my grin.

"Touché," he mutters, as I give him a cocky bow.

"Where are your bathrooms?"

The bartender stays silent for a second, his hazel eyes on something behind me. I frown and start to turn to see what has caught his attention, but he quickly waves his hand and points to the balcony above. "Go up the stairs and take a right, it'll be the first door you see."

"Thanks," I smile, then gesture to my empty glass. "And thanks for the drink."

I shove my hands into the pockets of my slacks as I walk towards the staircase behind the large dancing crowd, setting my hand on the wooden railing as I place my foot onto the first step.

As my fingers brush against the smooth coating on the wood, a sudden prickling sensation tingles on my neck, causing me to pause.

It feels like someone's watching...

The corner of my lip twitches as I continue to rise up the stairs to the second floor, wondering if my watcher will follow. I glance back over my shoulder as I reach the top of the steps, scanning the crazy crowd below for any unwanted gazes, but not spotting any.

I shrug and begin to take another step forward, but stumble to a halt as my chest bumps into something in front of me. I quickly grab onto the railing beside me to steady myself as I look up to see what I bumped into, freezing when a tall muscular man with white hair looks down on me, my eyes stopping on the pale scar that slashes across his lips.

"I've been waiting, Miss Harper." the man grins, as I look up into his dark eyes.

I force myself to laugh and cross my arms. I think I can take this dude, he's more on the brawny side, but if I can beat Harks in a match, I'm sure I can beat this guy too.

"Have you really? Well sorry to keep you waiting, but I am here now." I grin assurdly, but then the man grabs me by the arm and yanks me off the staircase and into the wall next to it.

I growl annoyedly, curling my hands into fists as he releases me and steps back. I dart forward and swing my fist towards his face, but the man merely catches it and gives me a threatening grin.

"Now now, I wouldn't do that if I were you," he chuckles, cocking his head to the side to gesture to something behind him. I frown as my eyes adjust to the darkness of the hallway, my body stiffening when I see the four people behind him.

They're each dressed in dark athletic suits, with a patch of a white snake curved into the shape of a circle over their hearts. They all look decently young, despite the dark masks that obscure the lower half of their faces. Three of them have dark short hair and one has a long blond braid.

Oh shit, I gasp, glancing back up to the man as he shakes his head and lets go of my fist. Beau was right, the Serpent Circle's assassins are after me...

"I'm sorry it has to be like this," the man mutters, lifting his fist as he gives me an apologetic look. But then his scarred lips curve up as he draws back his fist, and gives me an evil grin. "Wait, no I'm not."

I flinch as he sends his fist flying directly at my face, but it never makes contact. When I open my eyes again, I see that my arms have automatically lifted up to block his punch.

The man looks at me in surprise, as I keep my arms raised, adrenaline coursing through my body as I naturally prepare myself for the fight that's to come.

"So that's how this is going to go, eh?" the man asks, as the four assassins beside him step forward. "Well, suit yourself. But let the record show, I tried to do this as painlessly as possible." he says, talking to one of the assassins beside him.

I roll my eyes and use his moment of distraction against him, sending him stumbling back and crashing to the floor with a swift uppercut.

I lift my hands back up to my cheek as I wait for the other assassins to attack, but there's a moment of hesitation as they glance back at their leader.

Interesting, they must be newly trained I muse as the leader behind them scowls and looks up from the floor, his eyes narrowing when he realizes that his assassins haven't launched into action. "Well what are you just standing there for? Attack her!"

All four of them then spin towards me, as I shake my fists and ease the tension. from my body. It's okay Harp, you got this.

The first assassin leaps towards me, her blond braid whipping forward as she throws a punch towards my face. I quickly dodge and grab her by the waist, wrenching her into the wall beside me.

She crumples to the floor with a groan as the other assassins dart towards me and use my momentum against me. Two males grab me by the wrists and twist them behind me as a third strides forward and kicks me in the stomach.

I grunt as I double over from the pain, but the assassin grabs me by the chin and jerks my face up until my eyes meet his ash-colored ones. He lifts his other hand and slaps me across the face, my head whipping to the side as my teeth slice into my tongue.

I wince before spitting out a glob of blood, and jerking my head back to face the grey-eyed assassin. My eyes glare into his as I slam my foot back into the nuts of one of his comrades.

The assassin cries out, quickly letting go of my wrist as I twist my other arm and kick the assassin who slapped me to the floor.

Then I turn to the assassin who's still holding my other wrist and jerk him forward, slamming my forehead into his. He crumples to the floor just as the girl with the blond braid growls darts towards me.

On instinct, the heel of my boot immediately connects with her face as she launches at me, slamming her head into the wall behind her with a sickening thump.

Shit, I didn't mean to do that-

A startled cry cuts off my thought as the grey-eyed assassin rockets forward to place himself in front of the girl, giving me a deadly glare as his chest heaves up and down exhaughstedly. The floor beneath us pulses in the tension-filled room, as loud dance music floats up from the dance floor beneath us.

I cringe when I notice that the girl's forehead behinds to bleed. I begin to open my mouth when I hear a rustle of movement behind me, and then the click of a gun as the barrel presses into the back of my head.

"Now what are you going to do, you bitch?" A deep voice growls, and I recognize it as the leader's voice.

My body immediately tenses, my mind hyperfixating on the cold metal that presses against the back of my head. My eyes squeeze shut as my chest begins to unsettledly heave up and down.

Shit... SHIT! I panic, I can't let them take me! If I stay paralyzed, there's no way I'm going to win this fight!

My chest rises and falls as more adrenaline courses through my body, lighting the blood in my veins on fire, while the sickening fingers fo dread crawl up my spin.

"Not so tough now, are you?" the man snarls, and says something else. I force myself to block out his words as I force myself to relax my hands.

Breathe Harper, focus on the man behind the gun, not on the gun.

I imagine the white-haired man on the other side of the gun, and the pale scar on his lips. My fists begin to shake in rage when I remember the dark glint in his eyes, and his cruel grin as he grabbed me by the arm and slammed me against the wall.

I imagine the cruelty of this man and the Serpent Circle, forcing young kids into the lives of assassins.

No one shoulder ever force the innocent into this life, no matter the cause.

My eyes flash open as I grit my teeth and lean forward onto the balls of my feet, focusing all of my attention on the rage inside me, and the cruel man behind me.

"Haven't you idiots realized that my favorite move is the horse kick?" I snarl, bending my knee so the barrel of the man's gun is no longer digging into my scalp and jabbing my foot back into his stomach.

The man grunts and stumbles back, the gun still extended as he panickedly attempts to squeeze the trigger. I quickly grab it with one hand and jerk his arm forward so it's fully straight, before swiftly slashing my hand down on the crease of his elbow and forcing him to let go of it.

I kick the man in the stomach again, until he falls backwards onto his butt.

Twirling the gun around my fingers, I triumphant grin as I lift the gun and point it at the man. He cringes away as I step forward and kneel down to press it against his temple.

"Let the record show," I grin, lifting the gun away from his temple and lifting it over my head with both hands. " I tried to do this as painlessly as possible." I mock as the man flinches away, before I slam the butt of the gun down onto the back of his head, causing him to crumple forward.